


Lesson Number One

by lilpocketninja



Category: Marvel 616, Young Avengers
Genre: F/M, Mentor-Student Relationship, Oral Sex, PWP, Playful Sex, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1467928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilpocketninja/pseuds/lilpocketninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate's determined and Clint is wavering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesson Number One

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this eons ago in internet time and just decided to post it on AO3 (after some cleanup). This was long, long before Clint and Kate shared a book, so don't expect Hawkguy characterization or continuity with current Avengers comics. :)

“ _What_?”

“You heard me: I want to have sex with you.” Kate's voice wavers, but she doesn't let her gaze shift from his face. 

“...And you just decided this? I mean, don't get me wrong, Kate, you're a great girl --”

“But,” she prompts, jutting her jaw forward. She's determined and Clint is wavering. His hand clinches and unclenches on the grip of the bow, and his eyes are mostly focused on the target over her shoulder. It eliminates the temptation to stare at anything sex-related. 

“But you're also seventeen.” 

“Eighteen. Last week. It was on TMZ,” she says breezily. Kate probably waited until she could say that to even ask, the brat. Clint allows himself to meet her eyes and then to look lower, down the flushed column of her neck and toward the low-cut purple top she'd worn to the range today.

“...Eighteen,” he repeats, and then: “Well why didn't you _say_ so!” 

She tosses back her head and laughs, and then puts the bow aside – carefully, because sex or not that bow deserves consideration – before pushing him back onto one of the high balance beams and shoving her her hands up his shirt. The nails graze his skin, picking out old scars to explore, and she kisses him before straddling his hips. 

“Those are going to break one day, and it'll hurt like a bitch--” he warns, his voice hitching. “--But right now they're the best thing ever.” She's laughing right up until she licks into his mouth. Now _that's_ the best thing ever, at least until she pulls back and yanks her shirt over her head. It's the kind with a built-in bra, and it's tight enough that it slides off in jerks until her pale, round breasts bounce free.

“On the mat?” She asks after reassessing their precarious position on the thin beam. 

“Yes _ma'am_!” 

“Oh, now I'm ma'am, huh?” 

He rolls off the beam, landing flat on his back and spread eagle, but she remains standing and giving him a long up-and-down look. Her trademark smirk firmly in place, she pulls the drawstring on her pants and lets them rest briefly on her hipbones before pushing them down enough that they slide slowly over her hips. 

“Yes, ma'am,” He agrees, but his voice is hushed with awe. She's now wearing nothing but a tiny pair of lacy purple panties that can't have been comfortable to work out in, but he admires her dedication to the cause. Of, apparently, seducing him. 

She drops fluidly to her knees to crouch between his, and grins again. “Does that mean I'm the teacher this time?”

“You can be whatever you want,” he promises, and tries to sit up. She pushes him back down.

“Then stay where I put you. _Form_ , Mr. Barton.” Normally he would laugh at her bad imitation of his 'scolding voice' but right now he's far too taken with the sight of her pulling the elastic from her hair and shaking the dark curls free. They flow over her shoulders and stick to the sweaty skin on her neck, and his hands itch to run through it. She _finally_ decides to touch him with just a light hand rubbing his thigh through his sweatpants, and then pushes up his shirt again. 

“Yes--” She licks his bellybutton and he squeaks: “ma'am.” 

He can just see a tiny bit of dark pubic hair poking out of her panties; he's always been bad at impulse control. His thumbs hook under the sides and push them down just a little, and the first bit of her control slips. Her chin snaps up and her mouth parts. He thinks she might have gasped but he can't hear it. “Extra credit, teacher?” 

“You have to –“ she makes it up to his face, kissing him on the side of the mouth “--earn it.” 

“I've always been a quick study.” He licks his lips.

“Don't get cocky,” she says, and snorts as though she's embarrassed by her own pun. To be fair, thinks Clint, it is pretty dorky. The way her nose wrinkles only makes it cuter, and his hard-on is now ragingly obvious through the soft fabric of his pants. It pokes into her stomach and she looks down with an almost comedic widening of her eyes as she realizes what's going on there.

She hesitates suddenly and he worries that the whole thing's going to be a bust, but after a second she gathers herself and goes back to examining his body. The cock and patch of blond hair she finds evidently please her, though a small giggle escapes.

“Are you _laughing_ at my dick?” Clint demands, sitting up on his elbow and sending her sliding down. The friction it causes makes his eyes cross.

“No!” She purses her lips. “Just a little. They all look strange, if you really look at them. You have to … get to know your equipment.”

He's slightly appeased. She slides up and down, pressing his dick between her breasts. He cups them, tightening the hold, thrusting into the warm pressure.

“Katie...” he says, and lets go for a moment to finally stroke that beautiful hair. Her head turns into it, seeking skin-to-skin contact instead; her flushed skin is hot on his hand. “Mmm, fuck, _Kate_.” 

She slips away from his hand and moves away from the rest of his body. Disappointed, Clint groans but cuts off sharply when her mouth slips around him instead. She hums something that he can't understand, but it sounds smug. When the flat of her tongue presses up against the underside of his cock, he sighs her name. Her lips stretch into sort of smile before she starts sucking him off in earnest.

He pounds the mat with one fist and calls her name again; it urges her on until he's coming. When he comes back to himself enough to look at her, she looks panicked, with her cheeks out like a chipmunk's, and then swallows hesitantly. He beams at her, but says: “You don't have to do that.” 

A manicured nail wipes away a fleck of come on her lips and she grimaces. “I'll remember that next time.” 

“There you go insulting me again.” As he speaks, he slips one finger between her legs, trailing it up from her vagina until he finds her clit with one calloused finger and makes an appreciative noise. “There you are...” 

Her hips quiver and she thrusts down onto his hand. He keeps toying with her: adding his other hand under the first, sliding one finger inside and hooking it around. She croons at him, and spreads her legs even wider; he didn't know that was _possible_ , but it sure looks good. Her head rests on his shoulder, and her arms wrap around his back. 

“So beautiful, Kate,” he mumbles as he fucks her with his fingers until she's tightening all around him. Again her head sweeps back and her long black hair goes flying; Clint buries his nose in it and inhales the clean scent of sweat and shampoo before he lets go and she tilts her head up, kissing him down into the mat again. 

It's a few minutes of breathless cuddling later when she snorts again and looks up at him. “This was a productive first lesson.”

“I think I'm going to need a lot more practice, though,” he says, and kisses her again.


End file.
